An Act Of Compassion
by SnowHelm
Summary: Fenris hates Anders, but a surprising act of compassion from the mage leads to unexpected consequences. (Warning - Character death)


**_Disclaimer: _**_I do not own DA2 or any of its characters._

**xXx**

Fenris paced in front of the fire glaring occasionally at his bed. He didn't dare approach; the abomination lay nestled beneath the blankets whimpering softly in a restless sleep. He shuddered and sat on the chair, holding his hands out to the flames desperate for the warmth they promised. His eyes squeezed shut, his fists clenching as he remembered so clearly Hawke refusing to come to the Hanged Man with him to see his sister. He knew it was because Hawke was still bitter about the night he had walked out on him, but Fenris had genuinely thought his friend would accompany him.

_Varric and Isabela were out on a job; Sebastian was speaking to the Viscount about Starkhaven, Fenris had no desire to pull Aveline away from her duties and he would not go near the blood mage, or the abomination. Anders however had been in the Hanged Man when he arrived; staring at a glass of whisky, though Fenris knew him well enough by now to know that Justice would not allow it passed his lips. _

Fenris looked up sharply as the mage in his bed cried out in pain; he remained frozen watching him move restlessly until finally Anders seemed to settle. Fenris's frantic heartbeat slowly returned to normal and his gaze rested once more on the flames, as though they would hold the answers that would alleviate his confusion. The memories of Denarius walking down the steps of The Hanged Man flowed into his present thoughts.

_A life of slavery once more lay before him; he had felt the Magisters power curl over him, had known he was lost, wishing he had the strength to drive himself onto his own sword rather than submit to the whims of that mage once again. His sister's betrayal was like a blow to the gut, his breath pulled from his body and then Denarius was reaching out for him. A light had surrounded the Magister and Denarius was propelled backwards, a furious Anders standing between them. "Fenris is not your slave!" Anders had roared. Fenris had stared open mouthed in shock at the abomination, not truly daring to embrace the flare of hope the mages actions kindled within him. He had shivered as Danarius cruel laugh pierced his mind. _

Fenris tried to block out the memories of Anders screams, at the blood on his clothing and the convulsions of his body. He heard a soft mumble that sounded like his name and stared at the mage, his face so pale his skin looked almost translucent. He inched closer to the bed staring down at the man he had hated every moment of every day since they had met. He clenched his fists bowing his head; that wasn't true, hadn't been true for several months now. His eyes strayed once more to the mage; he was an abomination, yet he had risked himself for someone who had shown him nothing but contempt and disgust. It was such acts of compassion; the selfless giving of himself to heal all those in need, that had been the catalyst to Fenris's slowly changing opinion of the mage. Fenris felt the bitter taste of regret, it had only made his responses to the mage increase in harshness. He could not allow himself to befriend the mage; it would go against everything he now stood for. When Anders had caught him looking he had snarled an insult, when the mage had offered to heal him he had brushed him away with cold contempt. Those warm hazel eyes had begun to haunt his dreams and he hated his weakness.

Anders eyes fluttered open, his face tightening with pain. "Why is it so cold?" His voice a painful whisper.

Fenris let out an annoyed hiss, born from habit. His actions were more gentle as he pulled another blanket over the shivering man. "You need to sleep mage." Trying to keep the usual harsh tone from his voice. Fenris did not return immediately to his chair by the fire; instead standing awkwardly near the bed, wondering if there was anything he could do to alleviate the mages pain. He was surprised to realise Anders was trying to sit up and moved to help him; hesitating as Anders clutched his stomach shuddering in pain, his teeth clenched to stop from crying out. "What are you doing you fool?" Fenris hissed.

Anders glanced up, his hazel eyes wide with panic. "Don't want to impose." He mumbled; fighting against the nausea, struggling against the waves of pain that threatened to overwhelm him at every movement.

"And just how do you intend to return to your clinic in this state?" Fenris growled; agitated and angry that despite being in so much pain, the mage was willing to risk further injury simply to be gone from his presence.

Anders shuddered, closing his eyes against the pain. "I'll manage."

"You will lie still and rest mage." Fenris growled, grappling with the confusion and hurt the mage wishing to be gone from him had stirred.

Anders gave up and lay back down, closing his eyes trying to pretend he was anywhere else but in Fenris's bed. Thoughts of the elf had kept him up at nights and he had often imagined what it would be like to be here, though none of his fantasies had involved him being in excruciating pain.

"Why did you do it mage?"

Anders wearily opened his eyes, sinking into vibrant green. "Because no man should be the slave of another." He coughed violently; grateful when Fenris pressed a cup of water to his lips, tipping it slightly so the cool liquid soothed his parched throat. "Thank you."

Fenris retreated back to the fire; turning his back on the mage, thinking over his words. Fenris had never wanted to see the man; he allowed himself to see only the mage, the abomination, the danger. The abominations drive to free his fellow mages had been a source of great distress for Fenris who knew how dangerous magic could become. He had never really allowed himself to acknowledge that Anders abhorred slavery in any form. He had shrugged away the mages attempts to reach out to him and eventually the mage had stopped trying. Fenris had hated him for that too. He turned sharply as Anders breathing seemed to take on a harsh wheeze. "Mage?"

"Chest... sore." Anders managed to gasp out. "Do you have any... of those healing potions... I made up... last week?"

Fenris nodded and slipped out of the room, returning with a pack that he rummaged through for several minutes before pulling out the desired vial. He settled on the edge of the bed; ignoring the mages nervous glances and pulled out the cork, supporting Anders to drink the liquid.

Anders grimaced. "Maker that was... a bad tasting... batch."

Fenris allowed a small chuckle to pass his lips. "You've made worse mage."

Anders wanted to tell him he should laugh more, that it made his eyes light up. Instead he chewed at his lip, nervously making eye contact. "You know...it wouldn't kill you... to use my name... once in a while." He flinched as Fenris glared and moved back to the fire, his back to him once more. Anders sighed; hoping it wouldn't be much longer before the potions healing benefits kicked in, his lungs felt as though they were burning. He tried to take his mind off the pain by watching the elf. Fenris hated him that was no secret and he couldn't blame him; he had taken a spirit into himself, forever changing who he was. He had given up friends; a place in the Wardens, the chance of love all for the mage cause and he was no closer to the goal of freedom for mages than when Justice had come to him. His eyes lingered on the spiked armour before sweeping up to rest on the white hair he longed to touch. He remembered the man he used to be; carefree, quick witted, a charmer and missed him. He wondered idly if Fenris would have liked him then; or if the contempt and disgust would always have be present. Anders allowed himself a moment to imagine what it would be like to see the warmth in those green eyes he knew the elf was capable of, directed at him.

_Anders drifted; through dreams of Danarius's magic tearing into him and Fenris flaring into action, his fist driving into the Magisters chest, killing him brutally. Fenris was pulling him into his arms; hands pressing against the wounds, Anders blood spilling across the armour. He heard again Fenris telling him to hold on; a healing potion forced passed his lips, a crude bandage made of his own tunic wrapping around his chest and stomach, before he was cradled in Fenris's arms and carried to his mansion. Anders reached out for Fenris; but he always stood too far away, his eyes averted. _

Anders gave a shuddering breath, his eyes opening wide as he tried to gasp for air that was denied him by his failing lungs. He searched for Fenris, his panicked eyes begging for help. He coughed violently; blood staining his lips as Fenris tore himself from the chair and scrambled through his pack for the last of the healing potions.

When Fenris turned back to the bed Anders was laying still; his eyes closed, his face the most peaceful Fenris had ever seen him. He cautiously approached his throat constricting as he knelt down. "Mage!" Fenris felt the panic rise, a great swell in his chest as he took the limp hand into his own. "Why would you do this?" Fenris hissed, pulling away from him. "I hate you! You're an abomination, a filthy mage!"

Fenris sank back to his knees, tears burning his eyes. He leaned forward; gently cupping the mages cheek, acknowledging finally that his hatred had become more about hiding his attraction to the mage, rather than actually hating the mage himself. Fenris gently pressed his forehead to Anders, his tears slipping onto the mage's cheeks. "I'm sorry Anders, I'm so very sorry."


End file.
